Hunger Games: New Spark
by Silent's Screams
Summary: Katniss has failed to take over the Capitol and has now only caused twenty-five more Hunger Games to continue. On the hundredth Hunger Games, Fourth Quarter Quell, Marley Paver has been chosen to participate. Something inside of her has a spark of rebellion, which she has not yet discovered but will soon be revealed to her in the arena of death.
1. Prologue: Death at its Finest

**Prologue**

A woman with pale brown hair runs her finger across the rim of her drink slowly. A creepy smile curls on her rosy lips as she watches her finger trace the glass frame of the wine glass. Within that cup, there is a small amount of wine left. It shudders a little as she causes vibrations to occur around it.

The room she is in has beautiful white walls. Gold borders decorate the edges of the walls and cause the room to stand out. Behind her, a large painting of a child, very much like her, stands next to an old man. He has white hair and a nice suit. In the pocket of his suit, a rose elegantly stands out. Even though that rose is supposed to resemble beauty, something about it makes it seem almost… evil.

As she continues to do that with her left hand, her right hand brushes her hair back behind her ear. She adjusts her navy vest that covers her white blouse. Then, she twiddles around her skirt, her blue eyes narrowed.

"President Hope?" someone says at the door. The woman lifts her head in response to this and her eyes dart right over to the entrance. The door is slightly creaked, a man with a white suit, helmet underneath his arm, stands there. His face is concerned but also speaks business.

"Yes, Commander Goyle?" President Hope puts her left hand behind her back and lifts her eyebrows.

"Katniss Everdeen is ready to speak with you. We just had to finish the beating," he enters more. In his other hand, he has a bloody whip.

"Fantastic," President Hope smirks and takes a drink of her wine.

After her drink, she goes to Commander Goyle. When she gets there, they leave the room and head down the long hall in silence. They go into an elevator and head down several floors. On the screen, a hologram appears. It has a round face of a woman with dark hair. She smiles, "Hello, people or person. State your destination."

"Prison level," President Hope merely says.

"The level you are wishing to reach is not permitted to guests," the hologram says with a smile that seems so fake that it feels wretched to look at.

"I am President Hope. This is Commander Goyle."

"Put your eyes to the scanner for a test, President Hope and Commander Goyle," the hologram grins even wider now, eyes getting much larger. President Hope and Commander Goyle obey, pushing their eyes close to the hologram. After a few seconds, lights appear and scan them. Once the scanners are done, the hologram reappears, after disappearing, and smiles even more. "Welcome, President Hope and Commander Goyle. We are reaching the prison level immediately."

The elevator shudders and lights go off for a quick moment. Finally, it turns back on, but red this time. On the screen, it says "PRISON LEVEL".

Commander Goyle, his red hair cut in a buzz-cut, shines. He is sweaty, a drip of salty water dripping onto his lip and then to his neck. He gives President Hope a thoughtful glare and then turns back to the door of the elevator.

Moments pass and the elevator finally reaches the designated floor. The door automatically slides open and exposes a dark hallway. President Hope, with less hesitation than Goyle, leaves almost immediately.

She strudes down the hall and makes her way to the end of the hall. At the end, a thick, steel door awaits. On the top, it is marked "THE MOCKINGJAY". The sides of the door have two Peacekeepers, holding guns close to their chests. When President Hope reaches them, they dip their heads and salute.

"At ease," President Hope says boldly. "I want in. I must speak with the Mockingjay. Alone."

"President, she may—" a keeper tries to say.

President Hope interrupts him by holding up one finger and narrowing her eyes. "She was just beaten. What can she do to me? She has no power over me, and you know it. Now, open the doors and let me through."

After her orders, the Peacekeepers immediately say "yes ma'am" and unlock each of the three doors. Once they are opened, one leads President Hope to the cell that's inside. When they are in, he leaves and shuts one of the doors, waiting on the other side for the president to finish.

In the center of the room, shackles and chains hold an almost lifeless body. Blood drips from her nose, from her head, from her eyes, and every other part of her body. She wears tattered clothes, a braid still loosely knotted in her hair. Below her messy hair, President Hope is just barely able to make out her once so bright eyes. Now, they are full of gloom and misery.

"Look at you," President Hope smirks in evil. She walks around in circles, arms crossed and swift stride in her step. "Pathetic. You used to be the leader of a revolution." She kneels down and faces Katniss face-to-face. The girl doesn't even bother to look up because of her pitiful weakness. President Hope hisses, "You killed my grandfather. Where did that lead you? Nowhere."

A long minute of silence passes as President Hope continuously glares at Katniss. She then says, standing back up, "I am hosting the 100th Hunger Games this year." At the word "Hunger Games", Katniss starts a little, shaking. President Hope watches in entertainment, snickering to herself. "We are doing something cruel, but also genius."

"You hurt the innocent," Katniss manages to cough. Blood splatters on the floor from her statement.

"I don't hurt the innocent, I hurt those who have no place in this world."

"They feed you," Katniss spits. "They give you your supplies!"

"SILENCE!" Hope shouts. After that earsplitting cry, Katniss hangs her head low and a sob follows. The president rolls her eyes and slowly walks backwards. "Pitiful. Sad. Pathetic. You are a disgrace."

"Then kill me!" Katniss hisses beneath her breath so loud that it echoes throughout the prison cell.

"I don't kill someone like you. I let them suffer; I let them suffer the pain they deserve." Then, President Hope turns around and goes to the door. The guard allows her to leave and shuts all the doors after she is out and away. Darkness fills the room once more, no lights lit. The once full of life eyes of Katniss Everdeen fades to a pitch-black color as her head falls over. (shes not dead)


	2. Chapter One: Stroll

**Chapter One: Stroll**

**Marley**

I lift up the window slowly, silently. While peering out the window, I adjust my dark brown boots on my feet and stealthily exit my home through my window. I land on the grassy floor with a slight thud. Keeping my eyes closed, I check to make sure a Peacekeeper hadn't heard me. Luckily, around the corner, they don't move from their position and remain completely still.

Quietly, I sprint along the side of my house until I reach the end, at the backyard where I am able to freely walk around without being caught. I go into the trees and make my way through them, going across the same path I always use around this area.

As I walk through the woods, I spot a few other houses along a creek. Outside of them, people crowd around fires, trying to keep warm in the suddenly cold weather that clouds around us. Children hold themselves against their mothers, afraid of what is to come. Fearful of reaping that awaits them in a few more hours, for the calling that brings them straight to Hell.

Once I reach a certain point in the woods, I exit the trees and go more out into the open. I still manage to stay on the side of the road, where no one really pays much attention. Of course, because I am wandering alone, I still get a few glares from nearby families that gather around the fire and watch the trees.

I slip my hands in the pockets of my light brown leather jacket. My hazel eyes gaze into the green of the trees, watching them sparkle down from the light that shines above.

As I walk, my dark, curly hair bounces with the movement of my feet. In my pockets, my fingers play around with a knife that I always carry around with me for safekeeping. You never know what will happen within the districts; men and even Peacekeepers are always out. They could rob me, kill me, and do other cruel things to me. Of course, I know how to fight; yet, it's always good to have a killing weapon with me as well.

Around me, smoke covers the air. I don't feel able to breath as well, since it is so clustered with gray, rough air that almost prohibits me from smelling the freshness of the trees. I try to block out the smoke by not breathing; unfortunately, it continues to get into my nose.

I pass by a tattered home, its wood worn down and out. Around it, dead trees hang low or are either cut off or broken. A fire blazes a pale flame, surrounded by stone to keep it running. By it, an axe awaits its user.

For some reason, my legs slow down the pace, giving me time to look at what comes out of the home. I hear a shudder of the door slamming against the wall to close and then footsteps follow the abrupt noise.

A boy, around my age, maybe slightly older, walks out of his home. He wears a white shirt and ragged jeans, worn out and dirty from the hard work he must do. He doesn't bother to put on a sweater or coat to keep warm; instead, he just goes and grabs his axe. He swings it over his shoulder and walks almost towards me. I notice that he hasn't realized I am there, since his eyes hang low, as well as his head.

Then, he lifts his head. I see that he has a long nose, broad shoulders, and dark, curly short hair. His eyes are a shining green and he widens them once he sees me.

I almost gasp in shock and quickly begin to pick up the pace. I can feel his piercing eyes on my back as I begin to go away from him.

Once I am out of his sight, I feel a panging guilt and wave of shame. I feel like I just murdered someone with no weapons. I didn't use words either; I just killed someone who has already been killed. How did I do that? That, I am not sure of. I wonder, though.

Finally, I decide to head back to my own home. I go in the same direction, somehow avoiding the boy's home, and go straight into the woods and to my backyard. I go along the sides of my house, get to the open window, and go right through it. When I am in my room, I wipe the strange amount of sweat from my head and sigh.

On the bed, a dress awaits me. It is a plain white dress with some lace at the bottom and towards the top. Honestly, it is physically beautiful. However, something about it makes it seem like a piece of trash that I want to burn and throw outside for some wild animal to eat. Maybe, perhaps, it is the reason why I am being strictly enforced to wear this. Or, maybe, it is the humiliation for the districts. That humiliation was pushed by Katniss Everdeen, too full of herself to think about the consequences if she lost.

Slowly, I take off all my clothes and go to the bathroom, which is across the hallway. I take my dress with me, so I don't have to take a second trip through the hall to get to it.

After my bath, I gaze into the mirror at my body. I am fit, a strong body structure. I, however, have more leg strength and speed than upper body strength.

When my clothes are on, I immediately begin to work on my hair. It is already curly and neat, so I don't really have to worry about it too much. I tilt my head to the side to look at it some more, wondering about how it would look if it were straighter. Then, I shake my head and exit the bathroom, only to run into my aunt.

My heart nearly stops when she shoves me to the side. Her dirty blonde hair is tied up into a messy bun and her hazel eyes narrow, gazing right into mine with hate and anger.

"What do you think you're doing in that dress?" she grabs the end of the dress harshly and almost tearing it off.

"It's reaping," I tug it away from her and look down calmly, trying to be quiet.

"Reaping?" she lets out a snort of laughter. "'Bout time. Them kids out back are always drivin' be crazy. Don't you think so, Sam?" She gazes behind her and her eyes glisten with a strange amount of love when an ugly, tall man with greasy black hair and a beard comes out from around the corner. His shirt is off and his pants sag. Clearly, my aunt and him have been up a while.

"Yeah, I can agree on that," he stares down at me, his nasty, little, beady eyes wandering up and down. I slip the side and try to get into my room; yet, his skinny arm stops the door from shutting.

"Wait a sec," he smirks and crosses his arms. "Don't you think you need to respect me?"

"Why? Because you slept with my aunt?" I lift my eyebrows and roll my eyes. I am not afraid of him.

As I turn around to get something, I feel him step towards me. I hear his knuckles crack and smell the reek of his flesh. I wrinkle my nose in disgust and slowly reach for my knife, which is underneath my covers.

"You really want to play that way, girl?" he sneers and readies to grab me.

Right when he reaches for me, I fling around and stab him in the neck. I feel my knife enter his skin and he lets out a strange grunt and falls over. At first, I think he is done. Yet, when I try to pull out my knife, he grabs my leg and pulls me down. I let out a cry of agony and kick at him, trying to make him let go of my leg.

My aunt rushes into the room as the man and I fight. She watches at first, and then gasps in almost delight at the sight of the two of us attempting to kill one another.

Another body enters the room and that is my sister. She has a dark blonde hair and light brown eyes, not hazel like mine. She lets out a surprised screech and turns to go get the Peacekeeper. I worry that the Peacekeeper will be angered by this sudden outburst of war between two people; however, right now, I could use some help.

I continue to try and jab the man as he fights me. Yet, he is somehow able to block every single blow, only to hit me back in the face. I grunt and kick him in the side, making it so that he falls over and I finally am given the chance to stab him. Yet, right when I attempt, a Peacekeeper grabs my by the arms and pulls me back.

I let out a wail of frustration and fall to the floor. Another Peacekeeper takes the man away, out of my sight and likely to be, hopefully, executed or to die from bleeding out from my stab.

"MARLEY!" my aunt shouts, not bothering to care that the Peacekeeper is right there next to me. Instead of doing anymore, the Peacekeeper immediately leaves the house and goes to his post, which is at our front door to make sure we're all "in line".

"I was defending myself," I mumble, wiping blood off the side of my cheek.

My aunt rolls her eyes and kicks me hard against the flank. I cringe a little, but ignore the pain and focus on what's more important. In the corner of my room, my little sister, only eleven, watches in surprise and worry as my own family kicks me around. Once my aunt leaves the room, I go to her and hug her. She lets out a sob and whispers.

"Don't leave me here."

"I won't, Harley," I doubtfully promise. This year is my second to last year for the reaping. I am turning eighteen in a few months, and next year will be my last reaping, unless the rules change. So far, luckily, it doesn't seem to be heading in that direction.


	3. Chapter Two: Silver and Gold

**Chapter Two: Silver and Gold**

** Claire**

As the years go by, it just gets more and more violent. Gamemakers are becoming more and more intelligent, more and more creative with their works. And every year, I seem to almost get the worse types of kids. They're too young, too prideful, too weak, or something within that category. They rarely will get past the bloodbath.

I slip on some nice clothes and sit in the dining room, alone. I take a sip of my coffee and a bite of my bread. My head stings from the annoying pain of the memory of the games. I remember the sounds of the canons, the firing of when someone had been dead. I remember my loved ones dying, my enemies falling.

I was reaped at age eleven, with my brother who was eighteen. We were participating in the 86th Hunger Games. For a while, I wasn't afraid, since I knew he was strong and that the game rules were changed to two people from the same district can both survive if they both made it to the end.

Yet, I never really bothered to think that anything could happen. I had no idea that one day, while sleeping in a tree, that a boy would shoot my brother in the heart with an arrow and that I wouldn't even have time to say goodbye. I had no idea any of that would happen so I had no worries. However, after that, being left alone was terrible. The thought of my brother's cry haunted me and still does its works in dreadful ways and at the worst of times.

Now, I have no loved ones. I sound like a downer; however, it's true. I find no love with anyone, including myself. They all go way too quickly. If I ever fall in love, I will try my hardest to get out of it.

I take another sip of coffee.

I remember watching as the boy who killed my brother run off. I tried to chase him down; however, my tracking skills were clouded and I couldn't focus with the thought of my brother being dead. It was too tragic to do anything; I couldn't even think clearly that I passed out.

Unfortunately, when I woke up, I found my way to the killer. I found glory when I saw his face. He tried to kill me, but I was too angry to let him win. I seeked revenge and needed to avenge my brother, or else I would die too and we'd both die in vain.

I raged on the boy. I put him through so much terror and torture that literally no one would find interesting to watch. I ripped him to pieces, tortured him as I killed him slowly and painfully. I took every ounce of joy, of happiness, or anything in that category away from him. I made sure that his last half hour of his life was going to be the worst.

I shiver at the thought and stare down at my hands. Every time I look at them and think of this, I see the crimson, thick color over my fingers. I tore him apart with my bare hands. Am I really that gruesome? I always think.

I take another sip.

I remember the last battle against the girl that opposed me. We met at the Cornucopia, ready to face off against one another. She was tall, heavily built and strong. She consisted of lots of weapons, ready for any strike I had coming for her.

Other than all the blood that practically drenched her, she was very beautiful and wealthy, especially back in her old District One. She had golden, curly locks and gorgeous blue eyes; however, something about her was extremely off. I think it was the nasty look or sneer that she continued to give me when we first met. That face still tends to haunt me sometimes, since I came so close to death.

Another sip.

I remember her pinning me down and saying words through foam and spit as she tried to choke me. Luckily, I was able to kick her off and attack her again, making it so that she was unable to move beneath me. I placed my hands on either side of her jaw and pulled, snapping her head in half and automatically killing her.

The canon went off and my life was spared, just barely. I remember the breath I let out as I released the girl from beneath me and awaited my hovercraft to come and save me from this wretched arena.

I looked up above me and found it hovering just above me. It then dropped a long, black ladder down to where I was. I put my hands on the ladder and began to climb my way up it. My muscles ached; however, I ignored them with all I could. I had to get out of this place. I didn't want something to come up randomly and kill me before I even have the chance to escape.

One more sip.

I remember how the crowds cheered, calling out my name constantly, _"Claire Gutsby! Clair Gutsby! Claire Gutsby!"_ I remember going into my new room for the tour, glaring at the shining images made of gold and silver. At first, I was very fascinated with such riches. Then, I lost the interest and began to weep. I mourned over my lost brother, the one that really should have survived. He would have survived the _right_ way.

I press the cup up to my lips, ready to take another sip. Yet, as I slurp, I am only taking in air since I ran out of coffee already. I put down the drink and press my hand up to my sweaty forehead, trying to get rid of the throbbing headache.

Someone rings the doorbell to my home. I slowly get up and walk to the door, opening it only to see a Peacekeeper. He stares at me for a little, surprised to see such a strong person look so weak in the morning. He hands me a note and says, "It's almost time for the reaping. I suggest you get ready." Then, he turns and goes, away from me.

I narrow my eyes and then shake my head, crumbling up the note and sticking it in my pocket. It may be important. But do I look like I'd care?

I put on a blouse and denim skirt, doing my hair briefly. I pack my things for the train and then go to the door, where I set them down. A Peacekeeper, I know, will come by, pick up my stuff, and bring it to the train for me. So, I don't have to worry about it just yet.

I head down the path that leads me through the woods and past a few houses. People don't bother to stare at me, since they're used to the victor passing through their area. This is the usual place I stroll down, just to look at the trees and enjoy nature as it is. So, this is quite mere for them to see me come through here; especially at this time of the year.

I reach the reaping area. Children are already loitering around there, watching as the Peacekeepers prepare everything for the people to arrive. I go up to one and he says, "Name?"

"You know my name," I roll my eyes and hold out my finger. He takes it without any questions and pricks it. I don't even wince.

Once I am done, I go to the building and head inside of it. The air conditioning feels nice, since it is warm, unlike the weather outside. I take it in for a little, not bothering to take off my coat or anything until it gets a little too warm. By the time it does, I take off my coverings go to the lobby. A Peacekeeper waits there, just standing and guarding as usual. He nods to me, but I don't do anything back. I take a drink and sit down, sighing in disgust as the disgusting drink enters my mouth.

Another year, more death.


End file.
